Yes, I have two first names
I own a four-wheel drive
Shotgun rack in the back
Mud' all down the side
You say you've seen my kind before
You say that I'm 'white trash'
I think you're right, I love to fight
Kiss my rebel ass
Cause what them Yankees think and say don't mean a thing to me
I am not one bit concerned about high society
I love my daddy's .44, and I love my Johnny Cash
And you'll pry it from my cold, dead hands
Kiss my rebel ass
I've been on the drink too much
And hang out with my friends
Down and out all night long
To hell and back again
There's an ex-wife or two out there
That'll tell you 'bout my past
But I'll tell you like I told them, son
Kiss my rebel ass
Cause what my exes think and say, don't mean a thing to me
I am not one bit concerned about high society
I love my daddy's .44, and I love my Johnny Cash
And you'll pry it from my cold, dead hands
Kiss my rebel ass
Cause what them Yankees think and say, don't mean a thing to me
I am not one bit concerned about high society
I love my daddy's .44, and I love my Johnny Cash
And you'll pry it from my cold, dead hands
Kiss my rebel ass
I was raised on outlaw music
Waylon, Willie and Johnny Cash
And I'll tell you like they told them, son
Kiss our rebel ass
I'll tell you like they told them, son
Kiss my rebel ass